


Right Now

by Raine_Wynd



Series: Without Love [4]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Dinner With The Family, F/M, Family, First Meetings, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: Second of two interludes in the Without You series, featuring dinner with the MacLeods, and a coffee shop meeting between Delara and Vanessa.
Relationships: Connor MacLeod & Duncan MacLeod, Connor MacLeod/Brenda Wyatt, Duncan MacLeod & Richie Ryan, Duncan MacLeod/Original Female Character, Richie Ryan/Other(s)
Series: Without Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483481
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Right Now

Dinner with Brenda, Connor, Duncan, Richie, Delara, and Patrick turned out to be at an upscale Japanese restaurant Vanessa had heard was one of the best restaurants in the city. After a brief conference, they agreed to let Connor and Duncan decide on what they were eating, with input from Richie on Delara’s and Patrick’s preferences. The restaurant’s menus were written in Japanese, with some English, but the majority of it was not translated. Duncan and Connor’s fluency in Japanese did not surprise Vanessa after hearing how they had both spent several years in the country; what surprised her was that Richie was also fluent.

At her look of surprise, Richie shrugged. “I know more languages because I’ve played the Game,” he told her.

Duncan did not look happy at that reminder, but Connor shot him a look, stopping him before he could say something. What he was going to say, Vanessa wasn’t sure, but Richie looked relieved at Connor’s interference.

To cover the moment, Brenda interjected, “I learned Japanese because I fell in love with metallurgy. I kept hearing about a pair of rare katanas said to be the only two ever gifted to non-Japanese men.”

The three immortals, familiar with the tale, all grinned.

Seeing their smiles, Delara asked Connor, “Did you get yours directly from a samurai?”

Connor shook his head. “No. My teacher was Juan Sánchez Villa Lobos Ramírez, whose third wife was a Japanese princess named Shakiko. Her father was the great swordsmith, Masamune, who gave Ramírez a dragon head katana in 592 BC. When Ramírez died defending my wife Heather from the Kurgan, I took his katana.”

“I thought he had the strangest sword of any Highlander,” Duncan interjected, “until I was shipwrecked off the coast of Japan in 1778. My rescuer, Hideo Koto, was a samurai. He risked death to rescue and supply shelter and food for me. He gave me my katana, in memory of the one given to Ramírez.”

“Drove me crazy trying to discover where those two swords were, and why they were so special that everyone still talked about them when I was doing research for my book,” Brenda said, shaking her head fondly.

“You wrote a book?” Delara asked innocently.

“A massive paperweight,” Richie teased Brenda. “Hundreds of pages on metallurgy and swords.”

“You still read it when you came to stay with us,” Brenda shot back tartly.

Richie grinned. “Just so I could tell Mac I read a book on my vacation.”

Hearing the affection underlying the teasing, Vanessa smiled. “What’s metallurgy?”

“It’s the science and engineering concerned with the properties of metals and their production and purification. It’s how you separate metals from their ore, and that technology is millennia old. Back when I wrote the book, I wanted proof that the MacLeods’ katanas were real, because it was confirmation of engineering at a level the Japanese weren’t believed to have had as early as they did.”

“And now that you have proof, how do you feel about it?” Patrick wondered.

“Relieved, actually,” Brenda admitted. “Though sometimes I wince at knowing such fine specimens aren’t in a museum.”

“You’re happier knowing they’re being wielded,” Duncan noted.

Brenda nodded. “Swords like your katanas were meant to be used, not to be decorations. Though, that reminds me – what happened to the MacLeod broadsword that marked Heather’s grave? I didn’t see it when we were visiting earlier this year, though I saw the newer headstones on Heather and Ramírez’s graves.”

“Rachel MacLeod has it,” Duncan told her.

Satisfied by that answer, Brenda leaned back. “I thought she might, since Connor didn’t seem worried about it. I figured you had put the new headstones.”

“Who’s Rachel MacLeod?” Vanessa wondered.

“Next closest living descendant,” Duncan explained. “She’s the steward of the MacLeod land, and runs a pub in Glenfinnan that’s gotten a lot of interest. She hung the sword in a place of honor there.”

“How big is it?” Delara wondered.

“It’s a hand-and-a-half,” Connor volunteered. “I used it in battle.”

“Wouldn’t that be heavy?” Vanessa wondered.

Duncan and Connor laughed.

“It is,” Richie confirmed, “but they learned to wield such swords from the time they could pick up things.”

“You’ve held it?” Patrick asked.

“Rachel wanted to see if Mac had taught me,” Richie shrugged. “Then she demanded to know why I wasn’t using a katana.”

Brenda chuckled. “Why aren’t you using one? You’ve never said.”

“Because I didn’t think it suited him,” Duncan replied. “And the one you’re using now isn’t precisely a rapier.”

“His fault,” Richie said, pointing at Connor. “He made it.”

Vanessa blinked, surprised. She had no idea what it took to make a sword, but it seemed like a long-forgotten craft. Then she took in Brenda’s bemused expression and Connor’s look of pride.

“I thought so,” Duncan said, leaning back in his chair as the appetizers were served. “You’ve always made swords that would take a beating and then some.”

Connor gave him a look. “You always took too many shortcuts.”

“Wasn’t cut out to be a blacksmith,” Duncan admitted. “Despite your best efforts.”

“What’s the one profession you’re glad you don’t do anymore?” Delara asked.

“Keeping livestock,” Duncan noted.

“City boy,” Connor teased.

Duncan grinned, unrepentant. “At least I know how to survive in the woods.”

“And thank God both of you do, because I’d still get lost,” Richie interjected. To Vanessa, he cautioned, “Don’t get them started; they’ll be here all night debating things. Did you and Brenda have a good afternoon?”

“Yes, we did,” Vanessa said. “I’d never been to a Korean women’s-only spa before.”

“Oh, the Cascade Garden Spa?” Delara asked. At Brenda’s nod, she exclaimed, “I love that place, but the poolside body scrubbing makes me feel weirdly on display.”

“I thought that felt… oddly public,” Vanessa agreed. “It felt really good, though.”

“Would you do it again?” Duncan wondered.

She looked at Delara. “If I have company. I would feel nervous going alone.”

“Anytime,” Delara agreed. To Richie and Duncan, she teased, “By the way, that’s a hint.”

“As if we couldn’t pick that one up, Delara,” Duncan shot back.

If Vanessa had thought Delara and Patrick’s dinners were full of wide-ranging conversations and in-jokes, she was not prepared for the way Connor, Brenda, Richie, and Duncan interacted. Here, she thought, was a family – one who clearly loved, supported, and respected each other. They thought nothing of teasing each other over a lack of appreciation for the finer things (Richie did not like sea urchin sushi), perceived bad manners (Duncan, for failing to teach Vanessa that chopsticks were not appropriate for nigiri sushi), and a failure of an elder to instill proper cultural appreciation (Connor, who pretended to be horrified that Duncan used a spoon on a dish that didn’t need one). Vanessa took her cues from the way Brenda kept trying to hide her laughter, and the way both Delara and Patrick didn’t bother.

“You three will make me choke on something,” Brenda threatened finally. “Behave, or you’ll have Vanessa convinced you hate each other underneath the teasing.”

Connor instantly sobered. “We don’t,” he assured Vanessa. “Did you grow up in a quieter family?”

Relieved by his words, Vanessa nodded. “My mother had PTSD from growing up in Guatemala. She fled the country just as the civil war began, but it left her with a lifetime of scars. An intruder broke into our house when I was four years old; she thought it was the Guatemalan secret police, and she was never the same afterwards. I grew up learning to be quiet and fearing upsetting her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Brenda said sincerely, reaching out across the table to grasp Vanessa’s hand.

“Me too,” Richie agreed. “We get loud when we’re together, since it’s rare that we do. I used to think it was my job to keep up with Mac and Connor, so I wouldn’t embarrass them.”

“Connor will still drink you under the table,” Duncan told Richie, who laughed ruefully. “And no, cousin, we aren’t doing that tonight. Some of us have places to be after dinner.” Duncan held Vanessa close.

“If something I say bothers you,” Connor noted, looking at Vanessa, “please let me know. I love my cousin and my nephew dearly, but I’ve always loved to tease them. I don’t get to do that in person often.”

“How come?” Vanessa wondered.

Connor shook his head.

“Distance and timing,” Duncan elaborated, “and none of us likes what happens if we’re together for more than a few weeks. Somehow, the headhunters discover we’re together, and they come in packs.”

Vanessa grimaced at that news. “That doesn’t sound good.” Determined not to linger on that unpleasantness, she changed the subject to something less fraught.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

A sign on the coffee shop’s door stated that restrooms were for customers only and that the WiFi access was free with purchase. A rainbow flag hung prominently in the window on one side of the glass door, which was no surprise to Vanessa, given the coffeeshop’s location in the city’s LGTBQ+-friendly neighborhood. The smell of freshly roasted coffee and the sound of the grinder greeted Vanessa as she opened the door. Inside, she found the coffeeshop was a typical independent coffee shop, with a mix of comfortable chairs, sofas, and tables. Posters for local events decorated one wall, with art from local artists decorating the rest.

Vanessa bought a drip coffee. After a year in the city, she still was confused by coffee culture, and had yet to explore it. She was relieved Duncan liked his coffee black, with only a touch of cream, and was more of a snob about tea and whiskey. After doctoring her coffee with cream and sugar, she turned to survey the room, and found the woman she had come to meet.

Not for the first time, Vanessa thought Delara Wirtz was stunningly beautiful. Her ombre-red hair had been touched up, and she had braided it, emphasizing the red-to-blonde highlights. Her skin was the color of wheat. She had a sharply angled face with striking features, a prominent bustline, a thin waist, and wide hips on a medium frame. In deference to the August heat, she was drinking an iced latte and wore a tank top and a skirt.

Seeing Vanessa approach, Delara rose and hugged her. “Good to see you again,” Delara greeted. “Did you have any problems finding this place?”

Vanessa shook her head as she sat down. “No, though I wonder about the name. ‘The Holy Bean’ seems like a bit much.”

Delara grinned as she took a seat across from Vanessa. “It was a storefront church for years – one of those megachurches that imploded. The owner figured since many people say, ‘Oh God, coffee,’ they’d run with it.” She studied Vanessa. “You look better than you did a month ago. Did talking with Brenda and Connor help?”

“Yes. I can’t imagine anyone else with Connor now. She’s solid, in a way I hope I can be for Duncan.”

Delara looked at Vanessa kindly. “You didn’t run when you could have,” Delara noted. “And you haven’t run yet. You reacted to Sunday’s sparring practice like you thought Connor and Duncan and Richie hated each other and were taking it out on each other.”

“They looked so grim, and Richie’s insults sounded vicious,” Vanessa murmured. “I was shocked. It was nothing like the way they teased each other the night we had dinner at the Japanese restaurant – it all sounded so hurtful and hateful. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. But then they were done, and they hugged each other like they’d just had the best practice ever.”

“Because they did. It’s rare they spar with Connor; even rarer they have the chance to practice a two-on-one attack. Richie can’t spar against Duncan without an audience.”

“But he told me he backed up Duncan against Scott.”

Delara nodded. “With Genevieve and Joe not that far away, Watching, prepared for the worst.”

“I don’t understand. What is the ‘worst’?”

“A Quickening where the loser takes over from the inside,” Delara replied. “Over twenty years ago, Duncan was forced to take a friend’s head, which would be bad enough, but the friend had sought the heads of the evilest immortals. The Quickening turned Duncan evil. He almost took Richie’s head. Richie still has nightmares about it sometimes.”

Vanessa gasped. “How are they still friends?”

“A lot of talk and compromise,” Delara told her, “and from what I’ve gathered, they owe Joe a huge favor and repay him by making sure he doesn’t have to worry about the cost of his medical care.”

“Doesn’t the VA cover it?”

“It won’t cover certain advanced protheses,” Delara told her. “And Joe told me the MacLeods put their collective feet down and insisted he see someone outside the VA health system. It’s meant he’s been able to get higher-end prostheses that enable him to work long hours at his bar.” Delara studied Vanessa. “What bothered you the most about the sparring?”

“The insults,” Vanessa admitted. “What Richie was saying–”

“–isn’t the worst he could have said,” Delara finished. “Do you think Connor and Duncan have never been called ‘Scottish bastards’ or ‘disgraces to their whore mothers’?”

“I suppose not,” Vanessa said after a moment’s thought. “He was baiting them deliberately, then.”

“Richie uses words like weapons when he fights,” Delara told her. “He told me once if he has breath to speak during a fight, he’ll talk. He swears he’ll haunt whomever takes his head into being the best damn person this world has ever seen.”

“You don’t worry about that happening?” Vanessa worried at the lid of her coffee cup.

Delara shook her head. “No. Vanessa, you can only worry so much before it kills you.”

Surprised by that statement, Vanessa stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Stress leads to increased blood pressure and digestive problems,” Delara said calmly, and sipped her coffee. “I’m also someone who likes to please people, to a fault. I know what it’s like to swallow my anger and my fear until I go to the doctor and wind up diagnosed with hypertension and chronic gastric upset. I love my husband dearly, but he thinks in a very linear fashion. Richie forced him to reconsider his worldview, got him to see a therapist, and makes sure I mediate at least once a week. For that, I’m going to keep believing he’s going to live forever.”

“You don’t think he’ll want anyone else?”

Delara shook her head. “Not when what he wants for us is what Connor has with Brenda. Vanessa, part of why Richie called Connor is because he thought you wouldn’t believe what they have until you spent time with them.”

Vanessa bit her lip as she realized how correct Richie’s assessment of her was. “I wouldn’t have,” she agreed. “It would’ve seemed too unreal.”

Delara grinned. “I didn’t quite believe it either until Richie introduced me to them.”

Vanessa drew in a breath. “Connor is so different from Duncan. I’m not sure I like him.”

“That’s what I thought when I met him earlier this year. Richie treated us to a Valentine’s Day trip to New York, and we met Connor and Brenda then. Connor doesn’t trust others easily; he’s had a lot of reasons not to, and he’s not above using Brenda to get the information he needs.”

Startled by that, Vanessa stared at Delara. “She puts up with that?”

“If you were in a love with a man so deeply emotional, he still lights a candle in memory of a woman who’s been dead for four centuries, would you forgive him for a lot of things?”

Vanessa sipped her coffee as she considered the thought. “I suppose. I can’t quite see Duncan doing that, though.”

“No, I can’t either,” Delara agreed. “But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love as deeply or care as much, either. Brenda puts up with Connor’s silences because she understands him.”

“I can see that. What they have together seems so solid. Just like what you have with Richie and Patrick. How do you not get jealous?”

Delara shrugged. “I trust Richie loves me and Patrick equally, and if that ever changes, he’ll let us know. It’s also highly arousing to see them together, so–” she flashed a smile “–I enjoy that part as much as everything else.”

Vanessa blinked; she hadn’t considered Delara might get satisfaction out of that aspect of their relationship. “That would make it less of a jealousy-inducing situation,” she managed. “I admire your frankness.”

Delara chuckled. “I’ve been accused of looking like someone who wouldn’t swear or talk about sex,” she agreed. “Speaking of: are you happy with Duncan?”

“Yes,” Vanessa said firmly, hoping Delara would take the hint.

The other woman just smiled. “Then take strength from that. He loves you. He introduced you to his family. What more do you need?”

“More confidence,” Vanessa admitted. “This thing with Scott and finding out about Duncan and Richie and Connor – it’s shaken me up.”

Delara grasped Vanessa’s hands reassuringly. “Take your time. Patrick and I still have moments where we ask ourselves if we are risking too much, but it’s been nearly a year since we first met Richie. I can’t imagine our lives without him.” Delara took a breath. “I asked Richie if he knew of someone who had walked away, so I could ask them questions. He introduced me to an ex-girlfriend of Duncan’s.”

Vanessa stared at her. “I can’t imagine loving Duncan, finding out about everything, and then walking away. How could she?”

Delara lifted her hands. “She did and she doesn’t regret it, or so she says. But I asked around and she’s known as someone who’s married to her work. I didn’t see someone who was happy, mind you. Just someone who decided to live a life where she can say Mac was a part of her past – ‘a crazy, wild ride’ were her words – and doesn’t want that roller coaster but is still keeping his secrets.”

“I can’t….” Vanessa took a breath, pressing a hand over her chest. “God, just the thought of leaving him – it feels like I’d break my own heart doing that.”

“Then you’re on the same boat as me,” Delara noted quietly.

Vanessa took a deep breath. “Lily’s accused me of taking everything on faith and hoping it works out and then throwing everything I have into it when it fails.” She exhaled slowly. “It’s not my instinct to ask for help when I have questions in my personal life. Lily was the only one close enough to tell me she thought I was wrong, and I stopped talking to her because I didn’t want to admit she had valid reasons for her opinion. It all felt too intrusive and like I couldn’t handle my decisions without someone holding my hand the way my father did for my mother.”

“Did talking to Brenda last week help?

Vanessa nodded. “She made it sound like… even with the struggle of having to love someone who tends to not communicate but to decide like he’s still a clan chief, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She told me I was lucky that Duncan was more open to communicating than Connor; that I wouldn’t have to learn how to read body language the way she did with Connor. But I’m still so scared I’m doing something wrong.”

Delara studied her. “Wrong by whose standards?”

Startled, Vanessa stared at the other woman.

“You’re not dating a minor. You aren’t bound by some cultural standard of socioeconomic class – although, if we’re getting technical, you are dating way above your usual subset, in that Duncan’s rich and you’re not. You’re not dating a white dude, which I know, some people would consider a sin; he’s Scottish by upbringing while his ethnicity is a giant question mark. You aren’t dating two men at once like me, which means I’m technically not forsaking all others but we didn’t include that in our vows. What other objections do you have, Vanessa?”

Vanessa looked away for a moment. “I keep thinking I should have one.”

“God save me from ‘should,’” Delara complained. “Vanessa, a man loves you, who’s willing to kill to protect you. If he’s anything like Richie, he’s a damn fine lover, the best you’ve ever had. Richie told me once he used to overhear Duncan and Tessa making love; it’s how he learned good sex isn’t like porn. What more do you need to feel secure?”

Vanessa threw up her hands. “Nothing in my life has ever come this easily.”

“Then let it be the one exception,” Delara urged. “Don’t forget, Vanessa – you aren’t alone in this. You have me, Patrick, Genevieve, Brenda, Joe, Richie, and Connor to talk to if you need someone other than Duncan. You also have Lily. Remember: nothing in our lives has prepared us for this, but I take strength in knowing I have people I can confide in, who’ll help me, and who know what I’m talking about.”

Vanessa studied the other woman and decided it would have to be enough. “Do you regret it?”

Delara shook her head. “Hell no. Not when I get to know people like you.”

“Then I’m glad to have you as a friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've always intended this to be a trilogy with some interludes, so please let me know what you'd like to see in the next story! I have some things planned already.... ;-)
> 
> As always - I love to hear from my readers, even when this fic is "old."


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